


Two Moons

by Krimzie



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Pre-Warcraft III, Short One Shot, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-11 21:59:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16861042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krimzie/pseuds/Krimzie
Summary: Vereesa, glued to her elder sister’s hip since the day she learned to walk, was privy to a side of Lady Moon that never left the walls of Windrunner Spire.





	Two Moons

Sylvanas Windrunner was a mastermind, a master cartographer, and sole writer of an entire volume of military stratagems that would survive well into the next thousand years. She enjoyed dancing, singing, and strong Dwarven kaffe, and was always fast with a sharp-witted joke with a side of self-deprecation. It made those who envied her beauty all the more green, that she was funny and smart, and not just a beauty without brains.

It was, perhaps, her ever-churning mind that made her social skills leave a bit to be desired. Yes, she was kind. Yes, she was even charming. But that tactical mind chewed incessantly on other, deeper thoughts even as she nodded at the appropriate points in conversation and laughed on beat. She was gorgeous enough that her occasional awkwardness was mostly dismissed.

But Vereesa, glued to her elder sister’s hip since the day she learned to walk, was privy to a side of Lady Moon that never left the walls of Windrunner Spire.

A side of Lady Moon that, without encouragement, would also literally never leave the walls of Windrunner Spire…

“Syl-vaaaaa-nas,” Vereesa sang for the eighth, no, ninth time this morning. “Mother saved you breakfast. Come on.”

“Mm-hm,” Sylvanas murmured, her face so close to the parchment on which she sketched that it was a wonder there was no ink on her fa–

“Sylvanas!” Vereesa barked. That made Sylvanas’s head snap up and yes, indeed, a smear of indigo ink was caked upon her cheek.

“Breakfast,” Sylvanas repeated in monotone, her eyes not leaving what Vereesa could now see was an extremely detailed elevation map of Eversong Woods. She had no reference texts or cartographs. It was entirely from memory. “Heard you, Vee.” Then there was the scritch-scritch-scratch of another set of trees drawn on the map.

“You have ink on your face,” Vereesa said. She walked into Sylvanas’s study corner and approached her with feigned irritation. “Here.” She wiped the smudge with a thumb and then showed the offending ink. “Purple isn’t your color, sister.”

Sylvanas, releasing a sigh, finally placed her quill to the side of her desk. She looked at Vereesa tiredly, but still quirked the corner of her mouth in a half-smile.

“Did you sleep?” Vereesa asked, coming around the chair and sitting on her big sister’s lap. She threw her arm around Sylvanas's neck and Sylvanas hugged her loosely around the waist to prevent them from tipping over.

“Do hawkstriders fly?” She snuggled her face into Vereesa’s silvery-blond hair to stifle a yawn. “You’re too big for this, Little Moon.”

“You’re plenty strong enough to hold me,” Vereesa said, “unless you wish to rescind your title as Silvermoon’s combat champion of the season? And last season? And the season before that?”

Sylvanas responded with something halfway between a growl and a whine.

“Will you show me what you’re drawing?” Vereesa asked. Sylvanas picked her head out of Vereesa’s soft hair, blowing away a few strands that stuck to her lips in an animated way that made Vereesa giggle.

“Surely you recognize it,” Sylvanas teased, “or do we need to revisit your orienteering training?”

“Of course, it’s Eversong Woods. Do you draw it for fun? Because plenty of maps exist already…”

“None are accurate. Not accurate enough. Many miss the ravine here,” Sylvanas explained, reaching around Vereesa’s shoulder, and pointing out a symbol in the lower west. Vereesa loved when Sylvanas explained things to her, especially now, as it enclosed her in a hug. She never felt safer than she did cuddled up to her big sister. She pressed her cheek into Sylvanas’ warm, soft arm and smiled, not daring to interrupt. “There’s also a line of older trees across over here that haven’t gotten enough water for the past few rainy seasons. They’ve reached the end of their life cycle; they are bare and nearly uprooted. One cannot expect to defend this area of the forest or scale the trees, and yet they are indicated as defensible quarters in most of our volumes,” she continued. “And here, along the coast line. The last five years have seen considerable beach erosion. What once was enough dry sand to accommodate a bulwark or two is now hardly wider than this room. It’s not reflected in even our most recent archives.”

“Hmm,” Vereesa intoned. “You’re very good at this. The Farstriders must appreciate it. But why does it keep you up at night?”

Sylvanas stilled behind her. The one hand that was once gently rubbing her little sister’s shoulder hesitated in its circular movements. “Just… really, ah, want to get it done,” she said, unconvincingly. “You said mother left breakfast?”

Vereesa furrowed her long, elegant brows and turned to look sideways at Sylvanas. “You know you can’t keep things from me,” she said. “I’m clever enough to figure it out.”

“You are clever, Little Moon,” Sylvanas sighed. She tapped twice on Vereesa’s thigh, a signal to stand up from her lap, which Vereesa did. Both standing, now, Sylvanas a head taller, two pairs of silver-gray eyes locked onto each other. The silence was strained. “I just want to protect you. Will you let me?”

Vereesa folded her arms and scowled. “Mother already told me.” It was a lie, but she hoped it worked.

“Well, that’s not the truth, now is it?” Sylvanas said. “Mother is the one who told me not to tell you. You know I don’t like hiding things from you, dear sister.”

“I’m not an idiot, Sylvanas! And I’m not a child. Not… not really. Stop smirking!” Vereesa’s voice quickly became petulant, but she didn’t like it, so she took a deep breath. Sylvanas pursed her lips, the smirk gone. Vereesa spoke again. “Mother is at the training range. Alleria left to meet with the humans. You are remapping Eversong Woods.”

A muscle in Sylvanas’ jaw twitched. Then she blinked, relenting.

“Then you already know,” she said, resigned.

“We’re going to war,” Vereesa answered. “I’d know eventually, Sylvanas. Why do you have to hide up here all alone?”

“It’s not…” Sylvanas pinched the delicate curve between her eyes. “It’s not that I was avoiding you. Or, rather, I was avoiding everyone. I think better alone. You’re not a child–’not really’–and that’s not why… Vereesa, you will be old enough to join the rangers at midsummer. You still have time to change your mind.”

“Never! I’m a Windrunner!” Vereesa exclaimed. “And I can’t let you hog all of the glory.”

Sylvanas smiled at that. But then her face was somber once more. “Joining at a time of war is… difficult. I am worried I haven’t done enough to prepare you. I am worried you will be a front-line grunt through no fault of your skill, but your age, and trolls–”

“Trolls?” Vereesa interrupted and Sylvanas looked up at the ceiling for strength, clearly realizing she’d said too much. “Worry not, sister. I can defeat trolls. And if I’m a front-line grunt, I’ll be the best there’s ever been.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Sylvanas said. She sighed again, as if the weight of Azeroth were on her shoulders. “Just… don’t tell mother. Or if you do, let her know the truth: that you figured it out yourself.”

“Of course I did,” Vereesa said, earning her a flick on the ear from Sylvanas.

“So humble, Little Moon. Come now, come to breakfast with me.”

“Sure, if I get your honey bread!” Vereesa said, skipping out of the room and into the midday light.

“Yuck. Always,” Sylvanas said, smiling as she followed her sister down the spiraling ramp.

As far as Vereesa was concerned, with the Windrunners in charge, Quel'Thalas could never fall. Not to trolls, not to anyone.


End file.
